


This Ends Tonight

by Atlanova



Category: Holby City
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exhaustion, F/M, Friendship, Trigger Warning for Panic Attacks, Work stress, fletch needs a hug, im still not over flac
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:14:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23123074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atlanova/pseuds/Atlanova
Summary: A small rewrite of a scene from 22x10, in which Jac comforts Fletch after his collapse, instead of Ange.___________"Dammit, you can't keep going like this. To hell with the times you've told me I don't have to suffer alone.""Jac-""No, Fletch," she says, her voice cracking to a softer tone. His hand, joined once more with hers, goes with Jac as she crouches in front of him. He looks down at her with a thumping heart. "This ends tonight."
Relationships: Adrian "Fletch" Fletcher/Jac Naylor
Kudos: 28





	This Ends Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Holby City or any of its characters. The flashback scene at the beginning is just my attempt of putting it into writing - all the dialogue and everything belongs to the BBC
> 
> we're all missing Flac, so I put my current fic on hold to write this. I wrote it in one sitting and I'm also on very little sleep, so it's probably a mess and I apologise for any grammatical mistakes. I just sort of had to write this after this week's episode
> 
> Anyways, here's a filling of Flac for you all (if you're still reading for these two, that is)
> 
> enjoy! :)

_"She's out of her mind. How could she think that patient care won't suffer with fewer nurses?"_

_When Jac emerges from the operating theatre, she isn't surprised to hear rather loud yet noticeably hoarse shouting echo around the white corridors. She announces that they need Fletch in theatre as she walks towards him and their slender former CEO._

_Fletch's eyes snap to Jac. She takes in how disheveled his hair is, and how his eyes are wide and distressed. It's exactly why she decides that, right now - even with staffing being lower than it may have ever been - she will not urge him any more to stand by her side around beeping machines and bright lights. Not this time._

_"We're being pushed to our limits!" he exclaims, shrugging angrily, eyes flicking between her and Henrik._

_"There's no arguments there, Mr Fletcher, but I really don't see what I can do," comes the mature words of Henrik._

_Vexation boils in Fletch's veins and his ears ring. His heart pulsates in his chest, whilst his stomach does flips. He reaches a hand up to run through his hair … except … is the room spinning, or is he just going insane?_

_The wall is the thing he comes into contact with as his back falls against it. Through the muffled sounds he hears Jac call out his name. He feels three or four hands hold him steady._

_"Look, I'm fine. Right?" he breathes, trying to stand straight on weak legs. "I'm fine. You-you hired me for a reason, because you thought I could do it."_

_Something tells Fletch that Henrik drones a few concurring words, but the corridor whirls before he can be sure and his heart thumps as his ears ring._

_"So why does it feel like I can't?" his sore throat whispers as he loses balance again. Fingers curl around his arms as he is pulled back from the wall once more._

_"Right, come and sit down, Mr Fletcher, please," Henrik says as he and Jac guide the nearly-trembling Director of Nursing to a row of chairs._

_His body finds momentary alleviation by falling onto the cold metal. Infrequent breaths wheeze out and his chest feels as if someone has stepped on it. He grips his knees and closes his eyes._

_Henrik stands rather awkwardly to his right, whilst one of Jac's hands sits gently by Fletch's elbow, and the other runs easy-going circles on his upper back. Concern furrows her brows as her careful gaze focuses on his stressed form._

_"Just take some deep breaths, okay?" she soothes fondly in a tender undertone._

_As Fletch attempts to do as advised, slowly her fingers trace over his shoulder blades. They brush past the lower part of his neck, before returning in circles to his back again._

_"You need to calm down a bit," she whispers, making a mental note that she will not leave this unfinished._

______________________________________________________

Sharp ticking of the clock in his office pierces his ears and agitates him that little bit more. The rather chaotic hubbub of doctors and nurses outside makes the stress stick around and he closes his eyes. The quiet of the room is almost deafening and he sighs tiredly as his eyelids close once more. 

"Fletch?"

It had been about an hour since the incident occurred outside the operating theatre. After a comparatively exasperating argument, an exhausted Fletch reluctantly agreed that Henrik would replace him, and join Jac in theatre. He was then left to bear the strict rules from Jac that he would stay away from work-related issue or task and reside in his office until she got out of theatre.

But it was inevitable that, with the drastic low levels of staff, about five or six nurses called his name for a number of problems the second he stepped onto Darwin. And, Fletch being Fletch, had helped them as best he could. Though, even he had to admit that he barely tried. 

Hell, he could barely concentrate as the pounding of his heart returned. After practically shoving a file back into a doctor's hands, his chest had become tight again. The door of his office slammed as he collapsed with heavy breaths to his desk.

Some forty minutes following that, Jac set foot into the threshold. It was clear to him that the journey from the operating theatre to his office had been a one-way trip, for her hair was still in a messy bun and she had that immediate post-surgery look on her face.

Or perhaps it was just disquiet as she took in the way he could seldom breathe. Yet, he offered her a quick smile as if to brush it off but she was having none of it. Within seconds she was by his side, gently coaxing him through for what Fletch felt was a truly agonizing fifteen minutes. 

And for the next five minutes, they sat in silence, with Fletch's breathing becoming slower, however Jac's worry never once falling. 

The pair are currently sat on two of the sangria soft-seated chairs. Jac's arms are casually reposed either side of her on the wooden elbow rests. Beside her is a drained Fletch, his back leant heavily on the wall. One of his arms lay on the rest beside Jac's, and the feeling of her skin against his allows him that little bit of extra solace. 

"Fletch?" she asks again, quietly.

He wearily turns his head to face her, and his focus flickers to her concerned eyes. 

"You need to know when enough is enough," she tells him, raising an eyebrow but her manner is far from demanding. "For your own sake."

"Jac," he whispers, before swallowing loudly and fleetingly closing his eyes, "I knew it was enough the minute patients started suffering 'cause we couldn't give them the-"

"Hey, hey," she interrupts gently, shifting herself around to him a little, her hand passing over his wrist for a moment. "Fletch, you need to stop getting so worked up."

A tired scoff sounds from him as he looks away for a brief second. "I really thought you'd understand."

Jac rolls her eyes. "Of course I bloody understand. Being clinical lead of any ward at a time like this is absolute carnage. And we're always left to pick up the pieces." 

The tense look in his eyes relents as he fidgets in the chair, lifting his head to her once again. "Right, but, Jac … "

One thing she doesn't fail to notice is that his eyes are becoming glassy again. The loud gulp from his throat burns with unshed tears. 

Jac has seen this many a time in her years here; junior doctors crumble under the pressure and end up a pathetic puddle of tears as she is left, in her superior position, to sort it out. Truth be told, she can barely remember each of their names the following day - not that she goes out of her way to try, mind.

What she has _never_ seen, though, is one of her greatest friends get crushed underneath the stress of his job. It pains her deeply. She has barely even seen him cry, let alone have two panic attacks in one day. 

Without hesitation, she moves her hand over the rest to clasp his that sits on his lap. She gives him an unwavering smile of reassurance as his fingers gently squeeze hers in return. And this is, especially as Jac's ever-worried focus bores into his teary one, potentially a danger zone. They had long since left behind their connection that only ever breifly went into fondly telltale kisses, and transient touches that always seemed too long to be as a result of _just_ a friendly motive. Jac's reasoning had been that she didn't want to hurt him if the shutters go up as things, for whatever reason, become a little too intense. And Fletch, after trying to persuade her otherwise, had respected her decision. 

Whilst letting go had been really quite arduous, they'd both managed and seemingly moved on. Although, as of now, they're not so sure whether the moment they feel trapped in is as a result of their past or their ever-friendly _now_.

Neither person's fingers draw back from the other's, instead subconsciously finding a slow rythym with which they touch. 

Perhaps it is always going to be like this between them.

"It's not your fault," she whispers, after clearing her throat and diverting her attention away from him for a couple of seconds. "For the NHS's shining reputation, it's just mayhem underneath and that's how it's always been. It's how it always _will be_."

Fletch smiles sadly at her and squeezes her hand once again, though Jac notices that the pressure is a little harder. So she shifts again in the chair and sits up, facing him sideways.

"I'm s'pose to help that, though. I'm meant to be the one who fixes the staffin' cuts and provides enough hours for everyone to be 'appy.'

"Alright, that's never going to happen. Hours are always going to be stretched, and shifts are always going to come flying from out of nowhere."

"Yeah, but …" he whispers, letting out a heavy sigh and shaking his head against the wall, " … what good am I 'ere if there's this much chaos?"

"Okay, listen to me," Jac says, her tone serious, looking at him with an unwavering gaze, "you are not to blame. The NHS doesn't rely on you, Fletch. You are not McGerry and this weight on your shoulders really shouldn't _be_ there."

"But it _is_ ," he counters quietly, his voice croaky. 

"I know," she smiles sadly, her focus flickering around his face. "That's because you're Fletch - no matter how impossible it is, you want to make everything work and you want everyone to happy in their jobs. Even if it's at the expense of your own wellbeing."

He dips his head for a moment and blinks tiredly. "Well, someone's gotta keep this place from falling."

Jac sighs and leans her shoulder against the wall, her fingers still entwined in his. "I know, and there's no denying how stressful it is. But, Fletch," she mumbles, her gaze slowly moving across his face, "you just need to let yourself breathe."

A sweltering tear slips from his eye, and Jac swallows and rubs his hand in effort to comfort him. A choked sob escapes him as he shakes his head again. "If I-I walk away from 'ere … Jac, everythin's gonna get worse, alright?"

She slowly moves her head from side to side as she straightens up. "And what about _you_?" 

He pauses slightly at that, his eyes suffering under her earnest gaze. To say that he hadn't thought about it before would be a lie, nevertheless he can never see himself being anywhere but here. 

"Are you sayin' you want me t' go?" he asks. Suddenly, the way their hands are clasped feels forced and just not quite right, somehow.

"For godsake, Fletch. _No_. I don't want you to go anywhere. But nor do I want you to be this stressed, okay? A rough day is normal in this place. But collapsing from exhaustion and having panic attacks … Fletch, you're working yourself _too_ hard."

"No," he snaps, pulling his hand away and standing up. He ignores the slight dizziness he feels at the movement - which does't go unnoticed by Jac - as he sits at his desk. He punches in the password to his computer, before runnning a hand through his hair. "I need to get this _done_. I can't afford to do nothin'."

Jac watches as he goes about gathering random paper that lies in disarray all over the desk. He is frantic about it and she simply cannot bare to see it anymore. She stands and walks a few steps forwards, before placing a steady hand on his, stopping him from picking up anymore paperwork. 

"Fletch, _stop_. Just stop."

"I _can't_!" he almost shouts, his voice strangled and his jaw slightly tense.

" _Dammit_ , you _can't_ keep going on like this. To hell with the times you've told me I don't have to suffer alone."

"Jac-"

"No, Fletch," she says, her voice cracking to a softer tone. His hand, joined once more with hers, goes with Jac as she crouches in front of him. He looks down at her with a thumping heart. "This ends tonight."

Another few tears roll down Fletch's face. "It can't."

"It _has_ to. It's been going on long enough - I _know_ that. And I'm not going to let it break you anymore."

He sighs and squeezes her hand again, slowing his breathing and trying as best he can to stop thinking about the heaps of work that he still has to do and _god_ how it just keeps coming. 

"You need to walk away. Walk away from this, for one night at least. Go and be with your kids, and if I have to make Ange take your phone away so you can't check your emails, then I will."

He allows a soft chuckle at that, before Jac stands. He gets up from his chair, but steals one quick glance at the desk. 

" _Oi_." Jac raises a firey eyebrow. "Put your jacket on - _right now_ \- go home, and get some goddamn sleep."

Fletch smiles softly at her, before stepping forwards and pulling her into him. She rolls her eyes, but secures her arms around him all the same. He slowly sways her and buries his head in her shoulder. A sigh of comfort escapes him as he finds the calm in her presence, and suddenly - _absurdly_ \- the mess on his desk seems far away in his mind. And it's something like heaven.

The chaos outside has died down into a gentle humm in the while they've been in his office. The sound is a godsend to Fletch's ears. 

"Promise me that you'll take things slower, _however_ stressful it might get," she whispers, pressing her forehead against his neck. "You know, it's really fucking hard to find a Director of Nursing who can just about put up with all of this. We need you, Fletcher."

He feels her hand rub in small circles on his back, and he sniffs, closing his eyes. "Yeah, alright."

"Promise?" she mumbles tiredly, her eyes closed, glad that she can still be of great solace to him.

"I cross my 'eart, Naylor."


End file.
